The Road to Love
by athousandunknowns
Summary: The road to love is not an easy one; sometimes you have to start small and work your way up. Walter/Paige. Rated T for language.


She was staring at him again.

It had been this way since the accident; Paige and the team would show up to his hospital room bearing food and gifts, they would sit down and catch up, fuss over one another for a minute or two, and then, eventually, the chatter would fade into the background and she would find her gaze glued to the man sprawled out on the bed before her. She couldn't help it. He had almost died, after all, and no amount of reassurance that he was still alive could quell the fear that ran through her veins; fear that he could be whisked away again at any moment and the only time she had ever gathered up the courage to tell him how she felt was when he was unconscious and doped up on morphine.

Unconscious...

Her mind flashed back to a few nights ago, when she had been standing over him as he slept. Paige's body was still pumping adrenaline after everything that had happened earlier that day and she couldn't quite believe that he was still alive and breathing. She had been so grateful for such an extraordinary miracle that she had given in to the emotions that had been building for months and kissed him before she had a chance to think things through. Now, a few days later, she was back in the same chair, in the same hospital room that she had occupied a few nights before, and was pretending that nothing out of the ordinary had occurred; nothing that would forever change the definition of their relationship because, for all he and the others knew, nothing had.

"Do I have something on my face?" Walter's low voice broke through her thoughts, pulling her back to the present and the people around her.

"What?" Paige looked up, startled, realizing a beat too late that the conversation had hit a lull and everyone's attention had been pulled in her direction at the sound of Walter's voice. She felt her face warm; an instant betrayal to the thoughts that had been going through her mind just moments before.

"You have been looking at me strangely all morning," Walter pointed out. He and his facts. "Is there something on my face disturbing enough to monopolize your attention?"

She shook her head quickly, only just realizing that of course he would notice her lingering glances and odd behavior; Walter noticed everything. With how uncomfortable their friends were acting—Happy was attempting to busy herself with a magazine, Sylvester was suddenly very interested in his shoes and Toby began whistling enthusiastically—Paige became painfully aware of the fact that everyone in the room seemed to have picked up on the awkwardness closing in on them, and she couldn't help but wonder if she was not being as sly about her feelings as she thought she was.

"Toby," Walter barked, realizing that he wouldn't be getting a straight answer from Paige anytime soon. "I need facts. Is there something on my face? A scar or injury that I was not made aware of?"

With a quick wink in her direction—the idiot—Toby stopped whistling and took a step closer to the bed, leaning over Walter and blocking him from view. Taking advantage of her brief reprieve, Paige exhaled sharply, glancing around for something that would offer her any sort of support. Unfortunately, none of her friends were willing to make direct eye contact; Happy appeared almost amused by the situation.

"Nope," Toby replied, sitting back after an exaggerated moment of examining every inch of their leader's face. "I can't seem to find anything that would justify Paige's odd behavior."

Perhaps he would also find it odd that she was currently imagining a thousand different ways to strangle the behaviorist.

As though he could read her mind, Walter's gaze shifted back toward her, his curiosity peaked, and she felt her stomach drop. There was no way she was going to be able to get around it. She hated secrets, and the fact that she had kept her real feelings hidden from him for so long was as astonishing to her as a group of people who saved airplanes and hostages, cured deadly diseases and treated things like hacking into NASA as normal as walking down the stairs. If prompted, she would have to tell him about the other night; about what she did while Walter was asleep and how she had felt during the months leading up to his accident. And it was all going to go down in front of the entire team and her nine-year old son. Oh, boy.

"Paige?" He prompted.

Her mouth began moving of its own accord, unaccustomed to keeping secrets from the people that had become such an important part of her life. "Actually, Walter... The truth is —"

"Hey, geniuses. The staff tells me that you've been in this room all morning; no one can get in here to check this guy's vitals or give him any medication." Paige jerked her head toward the door as Cabe Gallo sauntered into the room, pulling the sunglasses off of his face and depositing what looked like chocolate pudding from the hospital cafeteria onto Walter's bedside tray. "It has kindly been suggested that we leave, lest the hospital decide that Walter needs a few more _uninterrupted_ days of recuperation."

There was a sudden surge of sound and movement as everyone turned to go, saying their goodbyes and shaking Walter's hand in the process. Paige exhaled and stood, pulling Ralph gently from his chair and nudging him toward the door with the others. "We'll come back later, yeah?" She called over her shoulder. "Or tomorrow?"

"Oh, definitely," Toby agreed, joining Paige and Ralph by the door. "After all, I never realized how interesting or, er... tense a hospital room could be," This last bit was meant only for her, but just as she moved to elbow him in the side, she was stopped by Walter's voice behind her.

"Paige."

She paused in the doorway, turning around to meet Walter's gaze. He had propped himself up by the elbows and was staring at her over the top of his blankets. "Could you stay a moment longer, please? I would like to have a word."

She nodded, turning back to Toby—who was practically overflowing with excitement—and Happy; both stationed at either side of the door. "Could you guys watch Ralph? I'll only be a second."

They nodded, glancing at each other for only a moment before placing a hand on her son's back and guiding him toward the lobby. The last thing she heard before turning away was Toby proposing they figure out a way to hack into the building's vending machine and the audible smack that followed as Happy made contact with the back of his head. Reluctantly, Paige made her way back toward Walter, hovering awkwardly at his bedside for a moment before meeting his hesitant gaze.

"What's up?"

"Nothing," he replied quickly. "I just... I don't pick up on emotions very well, but I noticed that you were acting a little strange these last few days. I just wanted to make sure... I mean, I know things were left a bit strained after our, ah... argument the other day, but... I was wondering if maybe you were still upset over what was said that night."

Paige had begun shaking her head as soon as she saw where his thoughts were going, but Walter didn't notice; clearly this had been a legitimate worry of his for a while. She felt her heart sink a little; lately he had been picking up on other people's emotions more and more, and she couldn't help but feel a little proud of the way he had progressed. And now, here she was, taking those new skills and tossing them over the side of a cliff. So to speak.

"I was very upset over Cabe and I did not mean to make you angry or imply that you were not a good mother for attempting to give your son a steady life and proper friends," he continued hurriedly, as though he thought his confession would result in another argument between the two. "You and Ralph have become such a huge part of my life, so when you admitted that there was a possibility of you moving away, I panicked—"

"Walter..."

He continued rambling, as if he hadn't heard her.

"Hey. Walter. Walter!" Blinking up at her in confusion, Walter stopped speaking as though suddenly aware that she may have something to contribute to this conversation as well; that she may feel equally as guilty. "I'm not upset over what happened," she confessed, taking his hand and sitting down on the edge of the bed. Consolation; this was something she could handle, something she knew she could do. "I realize that I pushed you a little too hard that night. You're right; you were already worked up over Cabe and it didn't help when I started attacking you over something that wasn't necessarily your fault. Ralph reflects the behavior of each and every member of the team, not just you. I was being selfish when I said what I did."

Walter seemed to deflate at her words, leaning back into the comfort of his pillows as all of the tension in his body began to melt away. "So that is not what has been bothering you, then?"

She shook her head before realizing her mistake. Shit.

"Then what is it?"

 _Where do you want me to begin?_ "Nothing, it's just..." She took a deep breath, preparing herself. This may not have been the time to expose every single one of her fears, but her mouth began forming the words before the more logical parts of her brain had a chance to catch up. "You almost died, Walter. The entire time I was trying to get to you, all I could think was that the last time I spoke to you, we were arguing; that the last words we ever exchanged were hurtful ones. We both said things we didn't mean that night and I knew I was going to have to live with that if you died. That was..." She inhaled sharply. "An incredibly painful thing for me to realize. I realized that I would have never seen you again and it was almost too much to bear. And it isn't the first time something like this has happened, Walter; we may not argue all the time, but we do seem to find ourselves in situations that are All or Nothing and sometimes... sometimes it's difficult to live a life where a single, calculated instant could be the difference between life and death; that I could be standing in front of you one minute—arguing, laughing, planning—and watching you teeter off the edge of a cliff the next."

She choked on a sob, covering her mouth with the hand that wasn't grasping his and closing her eyes in an attempt to regroup her emotions into something that she could articulate. All of the pain and anxiety that those few hours had created came rushing back and, once again, she found herself running down the highway, trying to get to him on time. Trying to tell him how she felt before it was too late.

"Paige."

She squeezed her eyes shut tighter, refusing to look him in the eye because, if she did, he would see it; he would see how deep her pain and fear actually went and he would know. Walter O'Brien would know that Paige Dineen was one hundred percent, absolutely, without-a-doubt, head-over-heels in love with him.

So they sat like that for a few minutes; her hiccuping softly into her hand while he traced patterns across the one that was entangled in his own. She could barely comprehend the fact that he wasn't shying away from human contact like he usually did, but seemed to welcome her touch; that he was aware of her emotional state and was willing to give her the time she needed to recuperate. The only sound in the room came from the steady _beep-beeping_ of the machines that surrounded them.

"I am not going to deny that our job has been tough," he said after a moment. His voiced was soft and almost soothing, as if he were trying to reason with a wild animal; something that would flee at any moment. "We have all been far too close to death far too often and, a lot of the time, it is my fault. Just like Ralph leaving school and arriving at the lab was my fault." She opened her eyes at that, a retort quick on her tongue, but he forged on. Clearly, he'd had some things on his mind as well.

"When I founded Scorpion, the goal was to combine our genius and make the world a better place. Obviously, it was not a success. When we finally started to make a difference, things like life and death were not a priority to us. Not until you and Ralph became such an integral part of our life. That is why I took your news so hard. Finally, we had something to live for—each other—and no matter how angry I was that night, death was a much bigger deal to me when I realized that I would never be able to see Toby, Sylvester, Happy, Ralph or you ever again. That is why I refused to open the door; I had to make everything right, otherwise my life—and death—would have no meaning. I would be the same guy I was a few months ago, before you and Ralph showed up, and I was not okay with that. I..." He met her gaze and she was shocked to see that his eyes were locked on her face; his expression open and raw. "I care about you, Paige."

" _I care about you, Walter."_

She was at a loss for words. Not only was he admitting that he felt this way, but he was mirroring back the same words that she had whispered to his unconscious form a few nights before; the night she realized that she didn't want to live in a world that did not have Walter O'Brien in it.

The silence stretched between them, charged with all of the feelings that neither one of them were willing to articulate; not out loud, at least. After a few awkward moments, Walter cleared his throat. "All of you guys, I mean."

Paige smiled, trying to ignore the fluttering inside of her heart and chest. "Of course."

Squeezing his hand—and swallowing what apprehension still remained inside her head—she reached over and pushed some of the dark curls away from his face, her fingers lingering near his ear a bit longer than was probably necessary. He leaned into her touch, his suddenly flushed skin warming her hand. "You should get some rest," Paige whispered.

He nodded as she stood. "Okay. I will... talk to you guys soon, then."

"Soon," she agreed, grabbing her purse and heading toward the open door. She paused before exiting, glancing back at the man behind her. He was staring at his lap; probably replaying their entire conversation in his head as he attempted to pick apart everything that was said. Even with his low EQ and inability to fully comprehend human emotion, he had to know that he'd admitted to something enormous; something he had tried desperately to keep hidden: that Walter O'Brien, genius extraordinaire, does care.

 _Say it,_ she chastised herself, trying to swallow past the lump forming in her throat. _Say something_.

Now or never, Paige Dineen. Take the plunge.

"Walter?" He looked up from his hands, meeting her gaze. "I care about you, too."

He smiled, a genuine Walter Smile; one that he usually graced only to her. "I'll see you at work, Paige."

She waved and turned to join the others in the lobby, her heart swelling with everything spoken and left unspoken between them.

 _"I care about you, Paige."_

It may not have been an 'I Love You,' but it was a start.

* * *

 _End. x_


End file.
